Gyda Eivarsdottir
Gyda Eivarsdottir hails from the Aeling tribe of the frozen Northern lands. She is descended from a long legacy of skilled fighters but was herself raised and taught to wield a sword by her late father Eivar the Dragonslayer, a skilled swordsman and folk hero amongst the Aelings. Her mother died when Gyda was too young to remember. All she knew of her mother was that she was considered a shield-maiden herself and fought alongside the men of the tribe until she settled down to become a mother. As a young and curious girl Gyda pleaded that her uncle Einarr, the tribe diviner, teach her magic. Though it was unusual for children in the northern tribes to posses such knowledge, her uncle taught her some simple incantations. As she grew older she progressed to cantrips, abjuration and evocation spells and began to adopt these skills into her fighting style. She was known for often enchanting her longsword Skullsplitter with a magical green fire before charging her enemies head on. It was thus that she came to be known as a fearsome eldritch knight. One fateful night when Gyda was about 18 years old, she was awoken by the sudden sound of wood scraping and pots shattering on the ground. She jumped from her bed, heart pounding, and pressed her ear against the door of her room while silently reaching for Skullsplitter but she heard nothing. “Who goes there!” She shouted. After a moment of silence footsteps thundered toward her and in the blink of an eye the door was knocked from its hinges. Gyda, jumping aside just in the nic of time swung Skullsplitter up in front of herself. With a loud clash of steel she found herself face to face with one of the chieftains warriors. Gyda startled and without armor fought for her life. After about 4 minutes of struggle she kicked a stool into the path of her opponent, knocking him from his footing. It was then that she thrust her sword with a guttural yell right through his abdomen. His sword fell to the ground and he folded under her. She heaved, pulling her sword from his body and demanded that he explain. The man sputtered with blood in his mouth and Gyda was only able to make out the words “Harlaus...orders” before the man began to choke and could no longer form words. Gyda reached for her knife knowing there was nothing she could do but end his life. She slit the man’s throat and fled from the room. The house was quiet but she heard shouting outside, then a sinking feeling washed over her, where was her father? Why has he not been there, defending their home? Her throat began to tighten as she approached her father’s bedroom door. The door stood halfway open and in the faint light of the smoldering embers in the fireplace she could see the silhouette of Eivar the once great Dragonslayer. He lay tucked into his bed, soaking in the blood flowing from his cut throat, his eyes open and still. Gyda fell to her knees and grasped at her gut as she let out a silent scream into the dark. She felt she could do nothing but sit in that one spot and weep. Her heart ached with sadness but her mind soon began to rage with an angry fire. The shouting outside continued and the smell of smoke found its way to her nose. She knew she had to flee or someone would be around to finish what the first assassin had failed to do. She had no time to gather supplies so she grabbed the red shawl draped on her father’s footboard and wrapped it around her shoulders and head. In a matter of seconds she slipped down the hall and through the backdoor into the cold night. She looked out toward the village center and saw the glow of a fire in the distance. A store shed was engulfed in flames; men and women ran to and fro beating at the flames with wet fabric and desperately shoveled snow into the fire trying to control the blaze. Gyda had a bad feeling, this was surely a distraction. She knew not from what but she knew her father lay, murdered in cold blood as a result. It was then that she felt a hand grasp at her shoulder and a familiar voice whisper “quiet, Gyda, it’s me Einarr”.